


Tell Me Again

by mssrj_335



Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Poe Dameron, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning Sex, No Plot/Plotless, Only Schmoop and Porn, Post TROS, Praise Kink, Purple Prose, Soft feelings, Sort of? - Freeform, Vocal Poe Dameron, a little cheesy, also hardcore NightLab feels (the measure of things anyone?), our boy talks we know this, some meandering metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22945591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: “Are you watchin’ me sleep?” Finn grumbles, voice rough and raw.Poe strokes his thumb where it was trapped behind Finn’s back. “Maybe.” He smiles against Finn’s chest when he breathes just as deep and relaxes into the pillows.“You’re gonna have to pay the tax, you know,” Finn says, eyes shut again.—It’s a soft morning and Poe’s feeling a little more than just in love.
Relationships: Finn/Poe Dameron, Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: FinnPoe Purple Prose [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744870
Comments: 25
Kudos: 200





	Tell Me Again

**Author's Note:**

> Poe is saying fuck and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind here lololol
> 
> All done from mobile and self edited so the usual warning? 
> 
> I’m not super good at writing smut but here we are

If mornings could be soft, this one was cashmere. He finds himself waking slowly, legs slotted in Finn’s, gentle puffs of air tracing their way across his face as Finn slept easily on. A perfect morning, really, if he thought about it. And it’s been so long since they had a morning like this. Poe blinks slow, adjusts his arm across Finn’s stomach so his fingers fit between his lover’s back and the mattress, gripping him a little tighter but not hard enough to wake him. A gentle ache grows in his chest watching Finn sleep. If he thought about it long enough, he’d probably call it love. It feels like more than that and it breaks his brain a little to try to put a name to it. Whatever it is, it feels like more than that and that’s all he can say.  


Finn’s face is so soft, jaw slack just enough to part his lips, all those troubled lines in his forehead erased. It’s late enough that the sun is finally peeking through the window, covering them in heat and setting the bedspread aflame but he’s the only one awake. He fits his chin where he’d settle against Finn’s chest, takes a deep breath in. Spices in their soap still leap volatile from Finn’s skin, carried on eddying currents of air, a push and pull of what smells like home now. It tingles in his skin; not exactly like electricity, more like a crackle of plasma, a snap of flame. That goodness finally escapes his lungs, skittering across them like some living thing. He finds Finn cracking an eye at him. 

“Are you watchin’ me sleep?” Finn grumbles, voice rough and raw. 

Poe strokes his thumb where it is trapped behind Finn’s back. “Maybe.” He smiles against Finn’s chest when he breathes just as deep and relaxes into the pillows. 

“You’re gonna have to pay the tax, you know,” Finn says, eyes shut again. 

“You still on that?” he scoffs gently, biting tenderly into Finn’s skin. 

“‘S only fair, it’s your rule.” Finn shifts to him slightly, sheets rustling, wraps his arm around Poe waist. “‘If you’re gonna look, you gotta pay,’” he mocks easily, eyes open and just this side of searing. “Besides, you make it so easy.” 

He fits his hand around Poe’s ass and squeezes. Poe chuckles and seeps deeper into the spaces between them, suitably rebuked. 

“So a General has to stand by his word? I can’t just say anything for fun now?” he teases, muffled as he peppers kisses up Finn’s neck, sliding skin on skin until he is mostly on top. 

“Why say it for fun when it can just  _ be _ fun?” Finn counters, hauling him the rest of the way up. 

He spreads his legs over Finn’s waist and his lover’s hand is popping a cap and slicking up, the other coming to balance along the line of his hip. Finn’s dark eyes seem even darker in a fiery dawn, lazy and dangerous, almost begging him to sin. Poe rocks back, a little moan caught in his throat, and lets Finn work a thick finger inside him. He presses kisses to last night’s hickeys where he can find them just to hear Finn gasp, bruises blending into the dark of his skin. Teeth bite less gently now that Finn’s got two fingers in him but he soothes the sting away, tasting volatile spice and salt still swirling on Finn’s skin. 

His thighs already ache, punishment for the night before, his hands trembling where they’re planted on Finn’s chest, but he’s never wanted anything more. “C’mon, c’mon sweetheart,” he groans. 

“You sure?” Finn’s asking but his hands are already reaching for the lube. He knows, despite all the softness and the teasing, knows Poe by rote. 

“Yes,” he moans, dragging it out into a hiss, rocking back on Finn’s slick cock, harder and hotter than the dawn. 

Finn groans, buries his head in the pillows as Poe sinks onto him. “Stars, sweetheart you’re so good...” Poe trails off, lost for a moment in the heat and bruising grip Finn’s leveraging on his hips. 

He’s patient, stars he’s so patient. Poe can feel want and fire and power coiling tight Finn’s core but his general doesn’t move. When he’s ready, Poe rewards him with a roll of his hips and that’s all Finn needs to get going. He plants his feet on the bed, pushing Poe forward on his knees until all he can do is hang on, and he goes, thrusting slow and deep and even. 

“Ha—aah,  Finn that’s—oh _that’s_ it, right— right there,” he keens, digging his blunt fingernails into Finn’s broad chest. Every nerve is on fire in the morning light, Finn’s pace and hips and hands punishingly opposed to the look in his eyes. 

“I know, I know sweetheart,” Finn pants, smart tone betrayed by fingers desperate in their grip. Poe tries to reply to that sass but falters, words lost in a brutally slow thrust. “But tell me again.” 

He’s a siren, he’s gotta be, Poe thinks behind the haze and heat and lust, pulling him closer to his end. “Nothing is as good as you— Finn , you’re so _so_ good, oh stars—“ Poe thrusts back, quick and wanton, hungry for the fire in his skin to burn through them both. “I wanna fuck you for  hours , wanna stay—hnng stay here all day and feel you in me, fuck—“ 

Finn groans deep in his chest and Poe feels it in his thighs, his cock. He’s rutting against him, shameless and desperate for it now, and when Finn finally  finally wraps a hand around him he can’t help the shout that escapes his throat. 

“Finn—“ he chokes. Finn’s hand is hot and slick, trading dexterity for speed like he knows Poe wants. Each touch and thrust heightens, spiraling from heat to fire to plasma, the molecules of his blood gaining velocity and vaporizing where his skin is touching Finn. 

“Poe,” Finn warns, shoves his hips up in a series so hard Poe nearly loses his grip. His mind is as blank as death, focused at one single point where Finn’s cock is driving into him, and he hears himself babbling, begging. 

“Finn— _right_ there, please, fuckin  _ please _ don’t stop please please oh—c’mon  sweetheart , c’mon please—“ 

Finn grunts, thrusts once, twice, and Poe is moaning, melting, destroyed by the heat of their bodies and the morning and the breadth of Finn’s cock. Finn tenses beneath him with a shout, hunching forward, wrapping his arms around Poe to keep them from flying apart. 

At least, that’s what it feels like to Poe. For a long moment, they’re suspended together. Then, Poe starts to float back down. Every muscle in him is loose, spent, but Finn has energy enough to gentle him back to the bed. He presses a kiss to Finn’s shoulder, his arm, wherever he can reach without moving too far. 

“Stars, you’re perfect,” he pants, maybe more delirious than he’d like to let on. “Have I told you that? You’re perfect, sweet maker.”

Finn huffs and rolls onto his side to kiss the pulse pounding in Poe’s neck, causing little aftershocks to ripple through him with a hiss. Finn slips an arm over his stomach and lays mostly on top of him. Poe can feel the smirk against his neck and he half-heartedly swats at him. Stars, he’s made a monster. They can’t stay like this for long, it’s definitely too warm now and the ‘fresher sounds amazing. But he catches his breath and murmurs again when he catches Finn’s heated eyes holding him, “Stars, you’re perfect.”

Finn’s smirk softens. “I know,” he mumbles. “But tell me again.” 


End file.
